Day 26 - From East Austin With Love

Old Anderson High School (Boys & Girls Club)

Another weekend bike ride across East Austin included a trip over to old Anderson High School's football field. Today, the old building is a Boys and Girls Club location on 901 Thompson Avenue (1st picture to the left).

Shot of Austin downtown from old Anderson HS

As I rode up the incredibly steep hill on Thompson to arrive from the East Campus of Austin Community College, I worked hard with deep peddling several gears lower to make it up the hill.  I powered up the hill and passed Booker T. Washington Terraces in the nearly perfect weather conditions, sun up with a slight chill in the air.

Looking at the pictures to left, I started to wonder back to my days growing up in the day.  I tried to take from my personal experiences and imagine going to school at old Anderson High School, home of the mighty Yellow Jackets.

Weekend flag football game at Yellow Jacket Stadium

Guys play flag football at Yellow Jacket Stadium

The scene of downtown Austin was quite beautiful.  The green grasses under the Pleasant Valley Street bridge looking over Boggy Creek Greenbelt made me wonder about the day to day experiences of a regular Yellow Jacket.

I came around to watch nearly fifty or sixty men playing flag football from different teams.  Listening to the commotion and banter among the men was reminiscent of my days in college.  Small spats with referees about their calls on the play, deliberations among team members talking about their next play, and cheers about extended plays down the field made me feel at home.

I sat on my bike to side taking a few pictures.  In a moment, I started to fantasize about being a millionaire, adopting a school, and making a real difference in East Austin.  It was the kind of serial daydreaming that people often have about the East side.

I'm not sure that I could make a difference.  I do think about how to strategically be an active member of the community.  Passively, this blog serves to explore my experiences openly.  Actively, I am still considering how to be involved.  This discovery process will help me to find what is best for my talents and interests.  My first priority continues to be a good parent.  Anything additional will be something to uncover.

At times, I have complained about difficulties with maintaining goals to drink water, avoid sweets, and explore East Austin.  Reflecting on this day, I am pleased about the wonderful experiences that I've had with my kids, celebrating all the beautiful aspects of the community, and enjoying the community trying to make a real difference.

One particular community that I came across was the Major Taylor Austin Cycling Group started recently.  I learned about them at the Austin African American Community Heritage Festival.  The Major Taylor Austin Cycling Group started in 2011 to honor and extend Marshall Walter "Major" Taylor's legacy as the first American and African American champion in cycling history in 1899.

The cycling group is part of a national network of cyclist from minority communities who promote cycling as an alternative transportation, competitive sport, healthy physical activity, and build community. It seems that this is a perfect time to connect with others.

Enjoy the video below of dancing at the heritage festival in honor of Mardi Gras.

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Day 22 - Back in Stride Again

I've had to write this blog entry in retrospect the following day because I came home after along day very tired and went to bed immediate with no real contemplation in place.

After a few days away, I returned to exercising and biking while attempting to forge a new trail away from Lady Bird Lake.  Since blogging about historic East Austin, I decided to ride through its less familiar parts.

One of the things about getting back on track is the body's adjustment to lifting, running, pushing, pulling, or haranguing by will or force through the exercise.  If you were like me, I was a junior league, weekend warrior during my young adulthood and former high school and college athlete.

In my mind's eye, without fail, I still approach exercise as a warrior seeking the next fight . . . with myself.  I want to challenge my body and approach each event like a climb of Mt. Kilimanjaro. This is the problem . . . : My body and mind do not work together.  My mind pushes, but my body pulls.

So, as I hit each hill, my legs start pumping up the hill with my mind focused on cutting up the distance into pieces, creating mental markers, approaching each one, and doing a happy dance for each small accomplishment.  As I finished the third or forth, maybe fifth East Side hill, I noticed my legs started sending messages back to the brain relaying the note from my muscles, "What the hell are you doing?"

As if my muscles decided to have a sit in and Occupy My Legs revolution, protesting inhumane treatment,
they failed to respond to my desire to make it up the next hill.  So, I pressed on with gold plates weighing each leg down as I cycled through Mississippi mud.

For one or two miles, I struggled with my legs that seemed to have a mind of their own.  I relished the down hill rest periods allowing my legs a quiet comfort and my breathing to return to normal.  Around mile five, I was fortunate to find that a peace accord was agreed when as my legs returned.  Unfortunately, I really could not feel them past the burning sensation that shot up across the top of my thighs.

On the last leg approaching my home, I rode in determined to remind my body who was in charge. Yes, I pushed my body a bit more than I should have, but I was not going to be a prisoner to legs unwilling to cooperate.  So, I pushed it up another series of gradual hill that was about three miles nearly straight up.

I took a deep breathe, cleared my mind a bit reflecting on the mix of shotgun, modern, and classic southern homes throughout East Austin.  I thought about how gentrification has allowed the prices of property to go out of the reach of many African and Hispanic American families unable to retain their homes or more willing to sell their properties for a profit, which would be hard to avoid accepting.

I thought also about my contribution to gentrification.  I'd like to think of my role as positive gentrification, if there is such a thing.  The truth is a high concentration of poverty is not good.  Gentrification passively helps to bring a mix of incomes into one community to break up the high level of poverty.

Part of the problem is also  people of color not being able to keep their properties in light of high taxes outside their ability to afford them.  Next door to their older home is a new home twice the price with three stories, which makes their property value higher and out of their ability to pay.

Yes, old home property owners can make a profit by selling their home, but the problem is that the community of Black and Hispanic people leave their historic place after being forced to reside their decades prior.  The businesses and East Side charm is replaced with outsiders coming in changing their community without any serious consideration to the needs or wants of the current residents. The challenge is that an increasing number of the residents are not Black or Hispanic. It's another change in tides.

I desire to remain as long as it satisfies my needs. While here, I'd like to make a positive contribution and be involved with each constituency that shares in the vitality of East Austin.  I do wish more African and Hispanic Americans would seriously consider moving back or come to East Austin.  The cost may be prohibitive to many; however, if you are willing to take advantage of close proximity of downtown and an urban experience contrary to the ideal of suburban ideals, then East Austin is the place to be.

On my porch, I stood for the first time on my bike, each leg was tired.  I also felt good, a painful oh, so good feeling.  I was glad to be out there.  Walking was tentative as I weakly came to my bedroom.  For a moment, I wasn't sure if I really did win.  I did win, because I did something, got out there, and made it much further than I would have just weeks prior.  I did win.

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Day 14 - Lovely Day of Amore

Happy to report that I did get up this Tuesday morning at 5:30 a.m.to exercise. By it self, I felt a sense of reward for following through. Yes, a little pat on the back is a good thing although short lived.

I already had my clothes, shoes, and other items ready to go near my bed.  I did not waste time foraging through my room looking for excuses not to exercise.

Over the weekend, I had cleaned up my bedroom so I could move about easily.  This morning was far warmer than the day before as well. These preparatory activities really made it difficult to be lazy, ignore the alarm, or be a flake.  I had no excuses or at least far fewer excuses.

I learned from the night before that there was going to be a dense fog advisory in the morning.  Oh, was the fog thick, but it was calming for some reason.  As I passed the eighteen acre Texas State Cemetery with headstones of dead confederate soldiers, I noticed that I could not see the red signal lights around 300 yards in front me.  Of course, the sun hadn't risen and no one else seemed to utter a sound. The dogs bark fell silent and birds remained still.

As I walked, I could only hear my heart beat, my footsteps and an occasional car or Metro bus pass by.  Passing into darkest on the street along the cemetery, the street lights were out and the fog made all else mostly translucent allowing a certain peace of mind to come over me.

Often times, cemeteries are feared for their ghostly features, respected for their sacredness, and avoided because they remind us of the intimidating welcome of death we each must encounter.  On this day, I sorted through the fog of night into the cemetery and felt calm, an ease of mind and body, while alone and each sound of my footstep faded in my mind.

I stood for a moment, which ended up being more than twenty.  In those moments, I was reminded of what joy and peace I received from my early morning exercises. I smiled and continued to finish my walk/run.

Through the day, I responded to difficulties and stayed on track with my water food, and stayed away from sweets successfully.  By the end of the day, I found that the day passed without incident.  I found myself more willing to share with friends and family my regular accomplishments and challenges.

I look forward the next day.

Day 5 - Food & the Super Bowl

Day 5 - Ok!  Why does it seem just when you are ready to start  anew, because the previous day did not go as planned, the day you want to regroup and refresh ends up on a holiday or special event?

Satan!  You diabolical, sneaky pork chop!  I curse you!

On Saturday, I complained and whined about the fat, salt, and sugar trifecta and the all powerful god of desire for them.  As my old pastor use to say, "You gotta name it and claim it!"

All right. I named them the Trifecta.

What I did not do is plan for the Super Bowl.  I had not really thought about what to do and how to prepare, which was problem number one.  Then, on the radio, I heard about the millions of hot wings that were to be consumed during the Super Bowl.  The chili cook offs, pizza, and all the delicious fixins.  Maybe it should have been a warning.  It was an invitation.

What the hell was a brother gonna do?  I have an idea.  But, this is what happened.

I went to pick up 40 teriyaki wings from my spot in East Austin.  My son and I were pretty hungry, especially since he finished a hard fought basketball game in a losing endeavor against an evenly matched team.  He also had a friend coming over to hang out.  Since I already had hot wings on the mind, I suggested them along with the fries and a very nutritious side of carrots and celery sticks with ranch dressing.

Yeah, I know.  Carrot and celery sticks were no where enough.  But, I told myself that I would get a nice salad to go with it.  Unfortunately, I started with the wings instead of the salad.  I loaded up on the wings and a handful of fries dipped in some left over queso I made with homemade salsa.  I could not let the queso go to waste, right?

When it was all said and done, it was about two o'clock in the afternoon and the game had not even started.  I was busted and promised myself that I'd eat that salad, leafy green, fibrous food to help the wings go down.

The salad never came, and! . . . I did eat the carrots and celery without the ranch dressing.

I couldn't eat much more for the rest of day.  After the Super Bowl, which was kind of exciting with the last minute touch down by the New York Giants, I watched a movie and contemplated my next move.  I drank the rest of my water for the day.  When I had a hunkering from something sweet, I had a piece of fruit, which seemed to do the trick.

So, today is the day.  I'm going to call that life coach I stood up months ago to help get on track as well.

Thank God for health benefits!

Tomorrow is the First Day

It's the day before I start my personal mission to cut sweets from my diet, at least during the month of February, which is of course, Black History Month.  Although I feel strongly about my commitment to honor those who struggled and died for my freedom, I am cautious about moving forward.

The good thing is that I have a plan of action.  I know staying hydrated is very important for me.  Many times when I am eating sweets I am actually thirsty.  Instead of water, I find myself drinking punch or my favorite, zero calorie, Powerade or fruit flavored sparkling water.  The problem with both of these options is that they're somewhat of a set up.  While I am satisfied partially from liquid, the artificial sweetener leaves me wanting more. Meaning, I am still conditioned to have something sweet tasting when I am really, most likely, dehydrated.  So, later in the day and night, I'm still not drinking enough water to keep me hydrated.

The other real problem is the sweets and junk food from brownies to baked corn and potato chips, candies like Twizzler, Snickers, M&Ms, and Laffy Taffy.  I use to pretend eating the low sodium, baked, or multigrain chips somehow made a real difference.  It was not likely if I was eating the whole bag, by myself!  Another favorite is the no trans fat candy.

I've been a "victim" of the smart marketing ploys so many of us are persuaded by time and time again.  You have to give it to them.  Even when we know it is crap, they package it up, put on some bells and whistles, tell you how cool, fantastic, and hip you could be, and lo and behold, you are caught up.  You are not delusional.  You and I know the truth.  However, habits are hard to break.

I watched my mother die from diabetes nearly six years ago, on Christmas Eve. She could not break her "habit" of eating junk food.  She really was a victim.  She is also like millions of Black and Latino/as (disproportionately more than White Americans) across this country slowing dying from a diet that kills us softly.  The time, money, emotions, and all else lost behind our health is staggering.  I do not want to continue this legacy for my children and loved ones.  It's time to make a difference.

So, I have my water, calculated the number of cups I need for the day, track them on my smart phone, talk to friends and family announcing my journey, and go forth cautiously optimistic about what I will discover.  I hope you may find this journey a meaningful one for you. Tomorrow is the first day.

Blessings and Be well.